


Through Hellfire and Holy Water

by HopeCoppice



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 10:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19439149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeCoppice/pseuds/HopeCoppice
Summary: An angel and a demon face their fears.Spoilers for the last episode of the show, obviously.





	Through Hellfire and Holy Water

**Author's Note:**

> Another of my early-morning fics, so sorry if it doesn't really go anywhere. Posting in case someone enjoys it :)

It isn't the Holy Water that hurts.

It's not even unpleasant, really - Aziraphale is still, just about, as holy as the contents of the bath (holier, even, given the particles of Usher that might still be in there) - and it's certainly not going to do him any harm.

But as he throws himself majestically into the bath, keeping his - Crowley's - socks out of the water even as a satisfying splash sends the Lords of Hell stumbling backwards, he can't help imagining what might have happened if Agnes Nutter hadn't warned them. Crowley would be burning, disintegrating…  _ gone. _ And nobody here seems to care; these demons, Crowley's own  _ side _ , they seem to relish the idea of his torment and destruction.  _ That _ hurts. It hurts Aziraphale a great deal, which is why he takes such enormous pleasure in flicking water at the window.

"I don't suppose that anywhere in the nine circles of Hell there's such a thing as a rubber duck?"

That feels good; it sounds right, he can hear Crowley saying it. And if he can hear Crowley saying it, then Crowley must be all right. He knows it doesn't make sense, but so little does these days.

He makes a mistake, then, being too familiar with the Archangel Michael, but then it still sounds like something Crowley would do - and he gets her to fetch him a towel for good measure, because Crowley  _ would.  _ They don't seem to notice the slip, and if they do, Aziraphale suspects they're too frightened to care.

He likes that part. He likes that part a lot. 

* * *

It isn't the Hellfire that hurts.

Oh, it's not  _ pleasant  _ \- nothing in or of Hell is pleasant, and Hellfire to a demon feels like rolling in nettles - but it's certainly not going to do him any harm.

But, as he steps into the column of flame like the meek, obedient angel Aziraphale pretends to be, he can't help imagining what might have happened if Agnes Nutter hadn't warned them. Aziraphale would be burning, disintegrating…  _ gone. _ And nobody here seems to care; these angels, Aziraphale's own  _ side, _ they seem to relish the idea of his torment and destruction.  _ That _ hurts. It hurts Crowley a great deal, which is why he doesn't dare to look at the assembled angels for a few moments.

"Ahh. Mm." It's the pleased sort of sound he's heard Aziraphale make over hot cocoa a thousand times; he can hear Aziraphale doing it. And if he can hear Aziraphale doing it, maybe he's all right.

He makes the mistake of looking directly at Gabriel and the cobra-like hiss that escapes him threatens to blow the whole charade, but the angels don't know Aziraphale well enough to realise it's out of character. Even if they had, Crowley suspects they're too frightened to care.

He likes that part. He likes that part a lot.  
  


* * *

Later, in the park, there's a sort of giddy exhilaration in having pulled it off, in being safe (for now) and free (for now) and together (always). If the angel grips the demon's hand a little tighter than necessary as they switch back, or if the demon lingers a little longer over the moment of contact than he should, neither comments on it. They have faced their worst nightmares, and each other's, and what they really need now is a spot of lunch.


End file.
